


Two Hearts in One Home

by afirethatcannotdie



Series: The College AU [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Sappy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-11 11:52:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11147844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afirethatcannotdie/pseuds/afirethatcannotdie
Summary: Outtakes and extra scenes from my college au universe,We Are Only Just Beginning.





	1. Senior Spring: Rings

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of outtakes and drabbles in the universe of my college au that I posted on tumblr and am now transferring to AO3. You can read them as standalone pieces, but they'll make more sense in the context of the larger fic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do we get to request college au outtakes now? Louis asking Zayn to hide the ring!

“Louis. Lou. Mate, wake up.”

Louis opens his eyes and looks up at Zayn blearily. A sleepy haze clings to his brain, that disorientation of waking up from an unintended nap. For his part, Zayn just looks annoyed, his hands on his hips.

“What are you doing in my - oh, _Lou._ Again?”

Louis follows his line of sight, and it takes a split second, but then he realizes where he is: curled up in Zayn’s bed, a ring box clutched in his hand. Harry’s ring, the one he bought in secret two weeks ago. The one that he’s going to use to ask Harry to be his husband.

“You can’t keep doing this, mate,” Zayn says. “Push over.”

Louis scrambles to a sitting position, gripping the box tightly, and Zayn settles in next to him, their shoulders pressed together, backs against the headboard.

“I know,” he says with a sigh. He’d asked Zayn to keep it in his room for safekeeping, but twice now Zayn has caught him sneaking in to look at it, and there are three other times that Zayn doesn’t know about. Louis can’t be blamed - the ring was _right there_ , hidden in Zayn’s desk beyond the door, and he just wanted to see it again. So Louis is a weak man. Sue him.

He turns the box over in his hand. The box is soft black velvet, the little silver hinge gleaming in the afternoon light that streams in through the window. He cracks it open, admiring the metal band and picturing what it’ll look like on Harry’s finger for what must be the twelfth time today alone. It’s gonna be beautiful.

He looks up at Zayn, who’s staring at him with a small smile, all his irritation gone. “He’s gonna like it, right?”

“Yeah, Lou, he is,” Zayn says. “Just like I’ve told you the last twenty five times.”

“I just want to give it to him already,” Louis says quietly, laying his head down to rest on Zayn’s shoulder.

“I know you do. But I thought you wanted to wait a bit.” He drops his head on top of Louis’.

“I do,” Louis admits after a minute of quiet contemplation. “But then I think about how _happy_ he’ll be when I finally ask, and I want to give him that happiness right away.”

“It’s okay to wait, and it’s okay to do it now. It’s gonna be perfect no matter what.” Honestly, God bless Zayn for how he’s helped Louis through this whole thing. From listening to him talk endlessly about the future engagement to putting up with his drunken ramblings about Harry’s dimples to going with him to pick out the ring, Louis owes him big time.

“Yeah,” Louis says, thinking of the millions of proposal ideas that he’s considered and knowing that the one he’s chosen is the best, simple and sweet and them. He still doesn’t want to wait until graduation. He wants to do it now.

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

“For sneaking into your room and being so obsessed with an expensive piece of silver that I fell asleep with it in your bed staring at it?”

“For everything,” Zayn says, his voice frighteningly honest. “For being in love and making things work and finding a job and… all of it.”

“Thanks,” Louis says quietly. Zayn is his best friend, possibly the only person he loves more than Harry, and they tell each other they love each other ten times a week. But they don’t really do the whole sappy thing, probably because he and Harry do it in spades enough for them all. “That’s… really nice. Thank you.”

“Only the truth. Love you, Louis.”

“Love you too, Zaynie.”

“And because I love you so much,” Zayn says, lifting his head as his voice takes on a tone Louis is wary of, “I’m going to take this ring away and hide it somewhere else.”

“No,” Louis says immediately, trying to elbow Zayn away as he works to peel it out of his grip. “No, it’s mine.”

“It’s for your own good,” Zayn says, and as he gets to his feet Louis realizes a beat too late that Zayn has the upper hand in the scramble and now - that’s it, the ring is in Zayn’s hand and Louis has lost it. “I’m gonna put it somewhere else and you can have it back when you need it for real.”

“Take good care of it,” Louis says feebly, already missing it. He feels a bit mournful, and then silly for feeling that way.

“I will,” Zayn promises. “And Lou? When you get it back it’s gonna be because you’re proposing.”

“Yeah,” Louis says with a smile. “Proposing to Harry.”

He stands to his feet and gives Zayn a long hug. When he pulls away, he has one more thing to say.

“Just let me see it one more time. Please, before you put it away.”

Zayn groans. _“Louis.”_

Louis wins though, because he gets to see the ring again  _and_ he gets Harry. Louis totally wins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original post [here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/158669991411/do-we-get-to-request-college-au-outtakes-now)! | tumblr post for this verse [ here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/161626218551/two-hearts-in-one-home-outtakes-extra-scenes)


	2. Senior Spring: Phone Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooo can you do Harry almost catching Louis talking to Anne or Gemma or both or anyone else really about proposal details? Pleaaaaaaseeee?

Louis’ phone rings just as he’s cracking open his second beer of the afternoon. He sighs, pausing the episode of Parks and Rec that’s just started. It’s his fourth one today, but that doesn’t mean he wants to engage with the outside world.

He pulls his phone from the couch cushion where it’s been hiding for the last hour, and it’s Gemma calling him. _Why would Gemma be calling him?_ The picture is one that Harry took of she and Louis at Thanksgiving, their tongues stuck out for the camera. His expression is twisted into the beginnings of a grimace; she was just digging her fingers into his side to pinch him as Harry told them to smile.

“Hi, Gems,” he says when he accepts the call. No one’s home, so he puts her on speaker. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Hi, Louis,” she says, and her tone is suspiciously sweet. “Can’t I just call my brother to catch up?”

“Not your brother,” he grumbles. He restarts the show, puts the volume on low and turns on the subtitles. He’s good at multitasking. She’ll never know.

“That’s actually why I’m calling,” she says, her tone all business. “Did you get the ring yet?”

“Not yet,” he admits. “Still trying to figure out how to do it first.”

“It’s _really_ not that difficult. You just walk into the shop and tell them–”

“No, not how to buy the ring. I know how to do that, thanks. I’m talking about the proposal.”

“I thought we decided.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. On the television, Leslie is giving Ann a pep talk. He needs one of those. He usually talks to Harry, but he can’t go to Harry about this. “I don’t think it’s fancy enough.”

“What are you talking about? It’s perfect? The river’s really pretty in the evening, you said so yourself.”

“I know, but like… this is Harry. He deserves more. A hot air balloon. A ring hidden in a cupcake. What if I take him to Fenway Park and have them put ‘Will You Marry Me?’ on the big screen–”

“Louis,” Gemma cuts in. “Harry doesn’t even _like_ the Red Sox.”

“Alright, but like, you know how we were talking about going to Mexico for a graduation trip? What if I ask him then? I looked it up, I can rent a boat and take him out on a cruise, and when I give the signal they can have this band come out and sing to us, and if you pay extra they can release doves right at sunset, and I can ask–”

“That sounds expensive.”

“It is, a little,” he says weakly. “But look, I have the money from my granny, and I can ask my mum if she can loan me–”

“Louis.”

“Gemma.”

“You’re freaking out.”

A beat of silence.

“I _am_ ,” he admits desperately. “Is it that obvious?”

“A little bit. Lou, this is Harry we’re talking about. Do you think he cares about doves or Bora Bora or skywriting or whatever your other ideas were?” She doesn’t give him a chance to answer. “No. He doesn’t need you to spend ten thousand dollars on him. He just wants you to ask.”

“Yeah,” he says, not certain he actually agrees with her. “But how?”

“What do you guys like to do when you’re bored?”

_Have sex_ , he nearly says, stopping himself just in time. “Have fun. Go exploring weird places. Give each other five dollars and see who can buy the other the weirdest gift. Have dance parties. Eat food. Hang out.”

“There’s gotta be an idea in there somewhere. He doesn’t need anything fancy.”

“He deserves it though.”

“Right, right,” she says, and the front door opens, a familiar cough coming with it. Harry’s been fighting a cold over the past couple weeks. Louis scrambles to get the phone from its resting place on the coffee table. His heart feels caught in his throat; his stomach has fallen out of his body. “You love him, you want him to have your babies, you think he deserves the world, you want to marry him and be with him forever. So what do you do for him?”

“Hiii, Lou,” Harry drawls, dropping his bag onto the ground and making a beeline for Louis. Louis hopes to God that Gemma’s silence is because she’s heard Harry’s arrival and is panicking as much as Louis is. “Is that Gemma? Gems, are you there? What are we doing for who?”

Harry drops his weight on top of Louis on the couch, knocking the breath out of him momentarily. “Oof.”

“Sorry, love.”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Gemma says after a minute. “Hi, Haz.”

“Hi. So again, what are we doing for who?”

He cups Louis’ face in his hands, and his hands are ice cold, causing Louis to flinch and kick his foot into the air. “Fuck, you’re cold,” Louis hisses.

“Uh, we are… we are…” Gemma says, and Louis wants to scream. Harry is so fucking eager to help with whatever project they’re doing and Gemma is unable to come up with a single fucking answer, and Louis wants to melt into the couch.

“Present for Robin,” Louis eventually says, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. “Gemma called to figure out what we were doing.”

“Right,” Gemma says. “Exactly.”

On the screen, Leslie is talking about her love for waffles. Louis can relate – he and Harry both love waffles. And that’s… that’s _it_ , that’s the idea. The proposal idea. He’ll take Harry for waffles, they’ll go to the place where they had their first date, they’ll eat waffles and go for a walk and he’ll ask him then. Gemma’s right; that’s all Harry cares about. He doesn’t need Bora Bora and the Mediterranean.

“Gemma, waffles,” Louis says hurriedly. “That’s what I’m gonna do, waffles.”

Harry looks confused. “You’re gonna…get waffles…for Robin’s birthday?”

“Waffles,” Gemma says, and he can hear the realization in her tone. “Lou, that’s perfect.”

Harry looks from Louis’ face to the phone to the television show. “Are the two of you alright? I don’t think Robin likes waffles.”

“Lou, you’re a genius.”

“Gemma, we have to go now,” Louis says, releasing his hold on Harry so he can lean forward and end the call. “Thanks for all your help, you’re a star, love you.”

“What just happened?” Harry asks.

“Doesn’t matter,” Louis says, relief settling into his bones. This whole thing is sorted, he’s got it figured it out. He’s gonna _propose to Harry_. “Don’t worry about it. You wanna make out?”

Harry’s laugh is the only answer he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original post [here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/158673291721/oooooo-can-you-do-harry-almost-catching-louis) | tumblr post for this verse [ here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/161626218551/two-hearts-in-one-home-outtakes-extra-scenes)


	3. Junior Winter: Cookie Theft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I come seeking a college au outtake: your favorite pair (aka doesn't HAVE to be Larry, but it can if you want!) stealing cookies from the dining hall.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Harry says, pulling at the straps of his backpack to tighten it. He’s thinking of Donna, the head of food service, and how she always greets him in the mornings and how much he doesn’t want to end up in her office for theft.

“Come on, pal, just do it,” Louis begs. His cheeks are pink from the cold and Harry wants to take him home, to press his hands to his cheeks to warm him up, to press kisses along the length of his bare spine in the comfort of their bedroom. He won’t be able to do any of that if he ends up in campus jail.

“Why don’t _you_?”

“Because you’re the one who lost the bet.”

Harry looks between Niall and Louis, their expressions eager, and shakes his head. “I don’t want to.”

“Harry,” Niall says. “It’ll take three minutes.”

“I’ll bake you cookies! We don’t need to steal them from the dining hall,” Harry protests.

“But I want them _now_ ,” whines Niall. “Not in an hour.”

“Then steal your own cookies!”

“You have to get them for me!” Niall looks about three seconds away from stomping his foot on the ground. He’s right; Harry did lose a bet, which involved him suggesting that the Giants were going to beat the Patriots in the Super Bowl last night. Such wonders had not come to fruition, leaving a gleeful Niall to dare Harry to do anything of his choosing.

He’s chosen for Harry to steal cookies of all types from the dining hall, even going so far as to provide the Tupperware container for Harry to fill. He’s pretty certain it’ll fit two dozen cookies. He can’t take two dozen cookies from Donna. She’s too nice.

“Your team lost, Harry,” Niall says, rolling his eyes and tugging his navy Patriots beanie further down his forehead. “Time to pay up.”

“The Giants aren’t even my team!”

Louis tries another tactic. He takes a step forward and presses himself up into Harry’s space, standing on tiptoes as he snuggles close. The fabric of his scarf is soft against Harry’s chin. It’s the one Anne bought Louis for Christmas, claiming that he’s a sophomore in college now and he needs to start dressing in proper winter gear, no more going around without a hat and gloves.

After weeks of trying to get Louis to wear warmer clothes and Louis claiming he’s babying him, Harry’s just glad he’s finally dressing for the cold. He also might be a little bitter about it, but he’s kept that to himself.

“Baby, please,” Louis says, his mouth centimeters from Harry’s. He flinches at the cold touch of Louis’ nose against his own. “Please go get the cookies, and Niall will leave you alone.”

Harry pouts, and Louis finally closes the gap and kisses him until Niall makes an affronted sound next to them.

“And then I’ll blow you in the shower,” Louis whispers against his lips.

Harry huffs. “I still think it’d be better if I made the cookies instead. It’s a waste of a dining swipe!”

Louis takes two large steps back. “Well, we’re officially old and boring now, I guess, if sexual favors no longer have the same weight they used to,” he says, raising his palms in the air. Niall says something about how he absolutely does not want to know.

“No, no, come back,” Harry says, reaching out to grab him by the wrists. “I love you.”

“Apparently not,” Louis says with exaggerated irritation.

“Would the two of you shut the fuck up and get me my damn cookies?” Niall asks. “Some of us are hungover because our football team is made up of winners.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’m going to get the cookies.”

“You can do it, baby,” Louis says. “Good luck.”

Harry blows him a kiss, rolls his shoulders back, and heads into the dining hall.

“He’s not going off to fuckin’ war, Tommo,” he can hear Niall saying behind him. “The two of you are so fucking dramatic, Jesus Christ.”

* * *

It’s not as difficult as he expects, in the end. He swipes into the dining hall, regretting that he’s spending an entire swipe on a Tupperware container full of cookies. That’s the last time he ever bets on a sports game.

Still, as far as dares could have gone, at least Niall took a bit of pity on him.

He sets himself up in an empty corner of the dining hall, positioning his coat on the chair and his backpack on the ground. The Tupperware container sits flat on the bottom. He fills a plate full of cookies from the dessert station, trying to seem subtle as he heads back to the table. He even stops for a glass of fruit-infused water to make it look like he’s really there to eat.

With a quick glance around, he bends down as if he’s looking for something in the bag and in one swift move, drops the contents of the plate in. They hit the plastic with a loud thud, and he tries not to flinch at the sound. He freezes for a moment, and then slowly looks up. No one’s noticed.

One plate down, one plate to go.

He does a few laps of the dining hall while he waits for them to refill the cookies, trying to act natural before going in for a second plate. Everything’s fine until he’s a few feet away from his table, so close he can feel the sweet taste of victory, when he gets stopped by Amanda, a girl who lived on his floor last year.

“Harry, hey!”

She’s standing right in front of him, so there’s no way to hide that he’s holding dessert for ten people. Fuck.

“Hi, Amanda,” he says hesitantly.

“What’s with all the cookies?”

“Erm… just hungry,” he tries.

“Alright…” She gives him a funny look and great, now she thinks he’s a glutton. So much for that healthy eating challenge he spearheaded last semester.

“Yeah, so I better go, thanks, nice to see you!”

He nearly trips over his own feet in his haste to escape. A cookie drops to the ground and he keeps on walking, hoping Niall won’t miss a lone sugar cookie. There’s no time to pick it up; he’s too embarrassed. He can’t get the cookies into his backpack fast enough, dropping them in and zipping the backpack quickly before making a quick exit.

The empty plate and glass get put on the dirty dish conveyor belt, the backpack gets slung over one shoulder, and he flashes Donna a bright smile as she waves him goodbye. He can feel the weight of the shame burning at his back.

Louis and Niall are waiting for him in the lobby of the dining hall.

“Jesus, could you have taken any longer, it’s fuckin’ freezing,” Niall curses, making grabby hands for the cookies. “Thank you!”

“Bit cold, love,” Louis says, slinging an arm around Harry’s waist and pulling him close. “You get the cookies okay?”

“I did.” Harry hands the backpack to Niall, slips a hand into Louis’ back pocket, and leads them out the door. “You owe me a blowjob.”

“You got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original post [here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/159024444196/i-come-seeking-a-college-au-outtake-your-favorite) | tumblr post for this verse [ here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/161626218551/two-hearts-in-one-home-outtakes-extra-scenes)


	4. Junior Fall: Thanksgiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "plz describe the way college au Louis uses snapchat"

It’s on Thanksgiving when Harry realizes what’s going on.

The first thing that tips him off is Gemma commenting that he should wear his pale pink button up for dinner. Gemma doesn’t know that he has a pale pink button up; he’d bought it only last week. The second thing is that she asks if she can borrow his copy of _Gone Girl_ to read before she watches the movie. How does she know he bought that a few weeks ago?

He finds Louis in the kitchen, arranging napkins, and he strides right up to him and pokes him in the sternum. “Why does my sister know all these things about me that she shouldn’t?”

“Harry!” his mother scolds. “That’s no way to treat your boyfriend.”

He ignores her—his mum has always had a habit of treating Louis like her prized baby, which normally he publicly resents but secretly adores—and focuses on Louis, who looks sheepish, rubbing the spot where Harry poked him. He didn’t poke him that hard, _honestly_. Besides, Louis just set a personal record in this morning’s neighborhood Turkey Trot. He’s tough.

“Have you been sending her photos of me on that app again?” Louis is silent, which always means he’s guilty. Harry throws his arms into the air, exasperated. “Louis!”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, not looking sorry at all. He actually looks a bit gleeful. “It’s just—sometimes you do the most _hilarious_ things and I need someone else to enjoy it with me.”

Harry rolls his eyes.

“Louis,” Gemma calls, striding into the room. “You should watch out, I think Harry found out that you and I are Snapchat best—oh. Hi, Harry. Whoops. Nothing to see here, then.”

Harry did _not_ know this, just figured out that there had to be some correlation between Louis constantly pointing his camera at him and Gemma knowing all these random facts. “You guys are _best friends_? What about me?” His voice is very calm, no trace of jealousy. Not at all. He’s totally cool.

“What’s going on?” Anne asks, standing on the other side of the kitchen island looking very lost.

“What about you, squirt?” Gemma asks, stepping between him and Louis so that she can wrap her arms around Louis, effectively shoving Harry out of the way. He pouts. “You don’t even _have_ a Snapchat, you think it’s stupid.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want my boyfriend to like you more than—”

“Kids!” Anne yells, and they all freeze. “What’s happening right now?”

“Harry’s pissed off because Louis and I are best friends on Snapchat and Harry doesn’t even use the app and sometimes Louis sends me funny things that Harry does so we can make fun of him,” Gemma says, and when she’s said all that she has to stop to catch her breath.

“Oh, is that why Harry looks like he’s about to cry?” Anne asks, looking much more pleased now that she knows what’s happening.

“I don’t—I’m not—”

Louis steps out of Gemma’s embrace and appraises him. “You kinda do, baby. Sorry.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Louis laughs. “Yes, but I can be on your side and still send videos of you singing while chopping vegetables to your sister.”

“You didn’t!” It was just last week, or maybe the week before, and he’d been in a really good mood — Louis had aced his statistics exam and they were nearly halfway through junior year — and Harry had dressed up and cooked dinner for them both. “You said you weren’t recording!”

Gemma smiles. “Sometimes people tell lies, Harry.”

Harry pouts and crosses his arms, but that does nothing. He frowns. His pouts are normally much more effective on Louis.

“Oh, Harry, stop pouting and come help me set the table,” Anne says, and with a last frown at Louis and Gemma, who are whispering to each other, he turns on his heels and follows her into the dining room.

* * *

They’re not in a fight about this stupid Snapchat thing. They’re not.

It’s just that by the time Harry finished setting the table, he had to get a shower and by the time he finished, Louis was at the store getting more alcohol, and by the time he comes back, Harry’s entire extended family has arrived and there’s no time to talk.

Harry’s step-grandmother adores Louis — as most people do, Harry is pleased to note, though why wouldn’t they? — so when she insists he sit next to her, of course Louis says yes, with only a half-hearted apologetic glance at Harry. Harry takes a seat on the other end of the table and resigns himself to the idea that they won’t be holding hands under the table this year.

He talks to his aunts and cousins throughout the meal, asking Clara the dreaded questions that plague every high school senior and telling her that she’s welcome to come visit him any time if she wants to get a feel for his school.

“No parties though, alright?” His aunt Marcy confirms, gesturing between Clara and Harry with her fork. Harry shakes his head, says, “No, of course not,” and then when Aunt Marcy isn’t looking, winks at Clara.

So the dinner is pretty good, and he’s not feeling as pouty by the time the main course ends. When he offers to clear, Louis jumps to his feet and offers that he will to.

As they leave the room, he can hear Aunt Marcy telling his Uncle Clark that the two of them are just lovely, aren’t they, and despite his earlier irritation at Louis, he still has to bite his lower lip to stop from smiling.

They’re quiet when they make it into the kitchen, depositing the plates on the island before going back for more. When the table is cleared, Harry picks a plate up and scrapes the food waste into the bin. Wordlessly, Louis takes it from him, rinses, and puts it into the dishwasher.

“Hi,” Louis says quietly once they’ve been working for a few minutes.

“Hi.”

“Are you alright?” His eyes are bright, but they’re not unaccompanied by their usual smile. He looks a bit sad. “I’m sorry about the Snapchat thing, if you’re upset about that. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s alright,” Harry says, cutting him off. “I was being a brat.”

Louis smiles, not all the way, but enough. “A little bit, yeah.”

“Think I just missed you, that’s all. Feels like there’s not been a lot of time just the two of us lately, sorry that I got a bit…”

“Stroppy?” Louis supplies knowingly, his grin widening.

“Yeah, maybe. Anyway, I’m sorry.”

“Just want to hang out with me all the time, is that it?” Louis asks, reaching out to pinch his cheek, and Harry swats him away and clasps his wrist with two fingers to pull him closer. “More Louis time, is that what you need?”

 _Yes please, exactly_ , he thinks, but goes for levity instead. “Eh, not sure I could handle more of you.”

“Think you handle me just fine,” Louis says, his voice lascivious and his eyes turning dark.

Harry drops his head onto Louis’ shoulder and groans. “Lou, my _family_ is out there, can you please not—”

“Sorry, sorry,” Louis says, and he wraps his arms around Harry properly to give him a real hug. “Anyway, speaking of. Do you want to skip out on dessert and go get McFlurrys?”

Harry hesitates. He does, he wants nothing more, but… “I really shouldn’t, Lou, my family—”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. Let’s do it. And then we can come back and have a cuddle.”

Harry grins. “Yeah, alright.”

* * *

They send Gemma a series of Snapchats when they’re there, one of them with their ice creams and another of them wearing these very ridiculous and also very cute flower crowns, one of them wearing bunny ears and another of them laughing into each other’s mouths. Louis saves that one instead.

Gemma sends back a middle finger and a “get me out of here!” message, and Harry thinks Louis being friends with his sister might not be the worst thing in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original post [here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/160068398886/plz-describe-the-way-college-au-louis-uses) | tumblr post for this verse [ here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/161626218551/two-hearts-in-one-home-outtakes-extra-scenes)


	5. Senior Spring: Sickness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “What if Harry got sick while Louis was out of town and the other boys tried to take care of him but Harry is so sick and mopey and annoying?”

 

Harry comes to consciousness at the feeling of a finger poking him in the thigh. The lights of the room are blinding, and there’s an uncomfortable pain in his arm. This must be some kind of weird dream.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then opens them again. Liam’s peering down at him, a concerned expression on his face. Zayn’s sitting on a couch a few feet away, sipping on a milkshake. Harry would love a milkshake.

“What’s goin’ on?” Harry asks. His throat feels raspy, and as he looks around the room, he realizes he’s in a hospital room. There’s an IV in his arm, one that leads to a bag of fluids, and he’s dressed in a flimsy blue paper gown. He’s not quite sure if he’s wearing pants.

“You passed out, you idiot,” Niall says, strolling into the room. He’s holding two cups of Starbucks coffee. He passes one to Liam, and then they both take a seat on either side of Zayn. “You know when they say not to work out after giving blood, they mean it?”

Suddenly, it all comes rushing back to Harry. The prick of the needle this morning, the nurse’s instructions to eat some cookies and take it easy, the feel of the treadmill under him as he started his run at the gym. He’d had to run ten miles in preparation for his half marathon. Ten miles on a treadmill sounded like hell, but it was far too cold to run outside, so he decided to suck it up and get it done. Three miles in, he started to feel shaky and dazed, and then next thing he knew he was falling to the ground.

“You’re a bit of a moron, you know that?” Zayn asks. His face is a weird mixture of concern and disapproval, and Harry doesn’t like that he’s the one who put it there. “What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Harry says, his head cloudy. He was thinking that he’d given blood many times, and nothing bad had ever happened. He was thinking that it’d be nice to get his workout over with on a Saturday morning so that he could relax for the weekend. “How bad is it?”

“You’ve got pretty bad dehydration,” Liam says. “They said they’re gonna send you home in a few hours. Did you even eat anything?”

Harry shakes his head. “They tried to get me to eat some cookies, but I said no because I’m in training.”

“Who gives a fuck about training?” Liam says, his voice raised. Niall flinches at the sound. “Harry, you have to be more careful. You can’t just go risking your life for literally no reason.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry says quietly. It feels a bit like when his mum would scold him for coming home late in high school. He does feel bad, mainly for the way they’re all looking at him with sad expressions on their faces.

“It’s alright, mate, we’re just glad you’re safe,” Niall says. “We’ll take you home and get you all better.”

Niall sets his coffee cup on a table and approaches Harry, not asking for permission before he curls up in the bed next to him. Harry wince when he jostles the IV, but Niall apologize and snuggles close. It’s like the beginning of freshman year, when they’d sometimes accidentally fall asleep in the same bed. 

“What’d Lou say?” Harry asks, trying to reach his phone but unable because of how he’s tethered to the bed. “Was he pissed?”

Silence falls. “That’s, er, that’s the thing,” Zayn says, rubbing at his forehead. “We, uh, haven’t told him yet.”

* * *

“You  _what_?”  Louis shouts. “Are you fucking dumb?”

Harry winces and pulls the phone away from his ear. They’ve just gotten back to the apartment, and Harry’s laying on the living room couch, tucked in under a pile of blankets (courtesy of Niall) with a gallon of water at his side (courtesy of Zayn). He can still hear Louis’ voice on the line, anger lacing his tone, and he counts to three before he puts the phone back to his ear.

“—monumentally stupid idea, you  _know_  we’ve talked about this, you can’t push yourself so hard, I swear one day—”

“Lou, baby,” Harry says softly, interrupting Louis’ tirade with two words. “I’m alright. It’s gonna be fine.”

Louis takes a deep breath, like he’s preparing to yell for another ten minutes, but then he lets it out slowly. “You better be.”

“I am, I swear it. Listen, I’m feeling better already.” That’s not quite true, but what Louis doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

“Are you sure?”

“Have I ever lied to you before?”

“Dozens of times,” Louis says, but he laughs, which is all that Harry wanted anyway. “Do you want me to come home and take care of you?”

“I can’t ask you to leave your conference,” Harry says. Louis has been looking to this theater conference in Virginia for  _months_. “How is it going, by the way? The pictures you send me looked sick.”

“It’s good,” Louis says, and he sounds distracted. “But we already performed, and we’re just hanging around until Monday. I’ll come home. On the off chance we win an award, someone else can accept it.”

“Louis William. You’re staying there to have fun, and I’ll see you on Monday when you come home. I’ll be fine. I’ve got the boys here if anything should happen.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,” Louis says quietly. “Hey, can you pass the phone to Niall? I want to talk to him real quick.”

“Sure,” Harry tells him, and then he yells for Niall to come help.

“What’s wrong, what hurts?” Niall says, running into the room and nearly slipping on the hardwood floor in his socks.

“It’s Lou,” Harry says. “He wants to talk to you. Bye, Lou, love you.”

Niall looks vaguely irritated, like he ran into the room expecting Harry to be bleeding from his head and he’s disappointed to find that he’s not.

“Bye, baby. Love you more.”

Niall takes the phone away from Harry before Harry can do something stupid like cry. “I’ve got food on the stove, Tommo, this better be good.”

A pause.

“Yes, Louis, I am actually making some soup for him right now. No, he doesn’t have a fever. God, the two of you are insufferable. Yes, I am taking care of him.” Niall walks into the kitchen, still holding Harry’s phone, and there’s nothing Harry can do about it. Distant murmurs of conversation are all he can hear, and then he closes his eyes and drifts off.

* * *

When he wakes up for the third time that day, the room is empty and the house silent. There’s no one around. 

“Niall? Liam? Zayn?” No answer.

His head falls back against the pillows. He looks around for his phone as his stomach rumbles, and then remembers that Niall took it when he was talking to Louis. Fuck. He’s really hungry, and his head still hurts, and he misses Louis.

“Niall!” he yells louder. “Liam, where are you?”

Silence.

“LIAM!”

Liam’s bedroom door opens, and he pops his head out. “Harry, what the fuck’s going on?”

“I’m hungry and my head hurts and I need food,” Harry says. “Can you get me some food?”

“Sure,” Liam says. “Niall made some soup but you fell asleep before you could eat it.”

“Can you get it for me? And my phone too?  _Please_? I wanna text Lou.”

“Sure,” Liam says after a minute. Harry settles back and closes his eyes while he waits for the soup.

_Don’t fall back to sleep this time, don’t do it._

He does indeed manage to stay awake until Liam returns with a tray of soup, a glass of water, and… a flower in a vase?

“Lou insisted we add the flower, “ Liam grumbles. “It’s like he’s your mum or something.”

“He loves me,” Harry says happily, reaching to brush his fingers over the flower petals. It’s one of the fake ones from the arrangement in their kitchen, but that doesn’t make it any less adorable of a gesture. “Thanks, Liam.”

Liam settles the tray in Harry’s lap, hands him the phone — one message from Louis, checking in to see how he’s feeling; Harry replies with a  _doing great! xx_  — and tells him to drink up the water. He stands up, looking like he intends to head back to his room, and Harry wraps two fingers around his wrist to stop him.

“Can you stay?” Harry asks, and his voice sounds pitiful even to his own ears. “Just for a bit? Tell me a story or something?”

Liam hesitates, and then nods, taking a seat at the end of the couch. “What do you want to hear about?”

“Anything,” Harry says immediately. “It’s too quiet here and I’m bored.”

“Alright. You want to hear about the awful movie me and Sophia saw last week?”

Harry nods, and then he loses himself in Liam’s words. He feels like shit, and it’s nice to have someone to pay attention to him for a little bit. 

Fifteen minutes later, Liam interrupts his story with a frown on his face. “Harry, why haven’t you eaten all the soup?”

Harry looks down at the bowl. It’s half empty. “It’s fine, I don’t want all of it.”

“Haz, you gotta eat it all.”

“It’s fine, I’m not that hungry anymore.”

“Eat it, please, Harry,” Niall says, coming down the stairs from his bedroom with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “I don’t want you to get sick again, or worse, have Louis yell at me for an hour.”

“Finish the soup,” Zayn says, popping his head out of his bedroom door.

“I hate this,” Harry says, pouting. All the same, he gives in to the glares of his roommates and dutifully finishes the soup.

“Are you warm enough?” Niall asks. “Do you want a blanket or a book to read or another story?”

“I’m not a five year old,” Harry grumbles, swatting Niall’s hand away from his forehead. “I’m fine.”

“Harry, you had to go to the  _hospital_  because you passed out from dehydration. Drink some more water.”

“I hate this,” Harry repeats. “Stop babying me.”

“Fine,” Niall says. “If you want us to leave you alone, we’ll do that.”

Niall and Liam share a look, and logically Harry knows that it’s probably about how annoying he’s being, but he can’t help it. He watches them leave for their separate rooms, and then he’s left alone again.

He spends some time on his phone, playing Words With Friends with Gemma, but then she stops taking her turns and he figures she’s found better things to do. He doesn’t text Louis, because he doesn’t want to worry him. If he tells Louis how pitiful he feels, Louis will fly home, and he can’t have that happen.

He considers it an impressive feat that he makes it a whole forty three minutes of sitting in silence before he starts to go out of his mind with boredom again.

“Zayn?” he calls. A beat of silence passes, and then Zayn appears in the hall. “Can we watch a movie?”

“I thought you didn’t want anyone to bother you.”

“I take it back. I want to watch a movie.”

“Alright, but I have to work on my homework during it.”

“That’s fine. Can we watch  _Love Actually_?”

Zayn sighs heavily and then nods before finding the disc at the top of the pile and starting the film.  _Louis would watch it with me_ , Harry thinks pitifully.

If only Louis were here. Harry wouldn’t have to  _ask_  or feel like he was bothering anyone or tell them what he wanted. Louis would know exactly what to do. 

An hour into the movie, Harry’s stomach rumbles ferociously. He ignores it, but then it happens a second time, and then shortly after, a third. “I’m hungry.”

“Aren’t we all,” Zayn says, attention not wavering from the laptop screen in front of him.

“Can we order some food? Where’s Niall? Niall will totally order something with me.”

“Don’t even think about getting up,” Zayn says just as Harry starts to push the blankets back.

“But I have to pee.”

“Well you could’ve just  _said_  that.” Zayn rolls his eyes. He watches as Harry walks to the bathroom, feeling a bit unsteady. “If you’re not back out here in six minutes, I’m coming in to check on you, alright?”

He makes it back to the living room without interruption. When he gets there, he sees Jesy in the living room, perched on the couch next to Zayn, Niall, and Liam.  _What is she doing here?_

“How’s everyone’s favorite patient?” she asks.

“Not very patient,” Zayn says. “He keeps trying to get up and do things, and he’s being whiny.”

“I’m hungry!” Harry protests.

“So Liam said. He sent me to cook dinner for you.”

“I think a girl could fix this problem,” Liam adds.

“That’s clearly not the case,” Jesy says, eyebrows raised.”

“Absolute sexism,” Harry grumbles. “We can’t have that. Besides, Jesy, you’re shit at cooking. No offense, I mean.”

“None taken. That’s why I brought a frozen pizza.” 

“Well, the girls and I drew straws and I’m the one who got sent over. So the pizza’s in the oven, and you’re going to shut up, eat it, and let the rest of us carry on. You’re not dying.”

“You’re acting like Kim in that episode where she loses her earring.  _People are dying, Kim!_ And you’re not one of them, Harry,” Zayn says.

“Thanks ever so much for your contribution,” Harry says, trying and failing not to sound snarky. “I’m sorry  that you’re all angry with me, but I miss my boyfriend and I am  _dehydrated_  and I miss my boyfriend and you all suck a little bit right now.”

No one says anything.

“Louis wouldn’t treat me like this,” he says quietly, taking a sip of water.

“Well, you told Louis to stay where he is,” Niall says, “and that’s your problem.”

“I hate it.”

It’s a testament to the fact that they all know him well enough to let it go, just continue to watch the movie in silence and bring him some pizza when it’s ready. He  _knows_  he’s acting like a whiny, entitled brat, but he wants to curl up with Louis, have his hair played with, and fall asleep. And he can’t do any of that when Louis isn’t here.

* * *

He ends up going to bed around nine, more for something to do than anything. Alone in the too-big bed, he ends up staring at the wall, trying to count sheep and staring at the framed picture of him and Louis that hangs next to the door.

Around 11:30, Niall checks on him, apologizing for bothering him all day.

“No, it was me that was an asshole,” Harry says, sitting up against the headboard and patting for Niall to join him. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed and holds his hand out for Harry to hold. “I was a brat.”

“It’s alright,” Niall says with a shrug. “Well, it was annoying, but we all have our moments. It’s shitty to be sick. I’m sorry Lou’s not here.”

“‘S’alright, he’ll be home in a few days,” Harry says quietly, looking down at the text he’d gotten from Louis a few minutes ago.  _Get some sleep and feel better. Love you, see you soon xx_

“Want me to tuck you in?”

Harry laughs. “Yes please.”

* * *

He’s eating breakfast in the kitchen the next day, oatmeal with fruit prepared lovingly by Zayn, who has forgiven him for his outburst, when the door opens.

Harry’s eyes widen, because if Zayn is sitting next to him and Liam’s scooping more oatmeal into a bowl and Niall’s sitting on the kitchen counter, that must mean…

“Hello?” Louis asks from the hallway, and Harry’s blood turns hot. “Anybody home?”

Harry sets down his bowl with a loud clanging and scrambles out of his seat. He can’t move fast enough, not when Louis is, against all odds, standing in the front hallway.

“Hi,” Louis breathes, and Harry’s sure that he looks great but he doesn’t even get more than a second to look at him before he’s charging towards him and enveloping him in a hug. “Whoa, whoa, slow down, it’s alright.”

Harry presses a kiss to his shoulder and breathes Louis in as he squeezes him tight by the waist. He inhales sharply when Louis squeezes him back. He’s actually  _here_.

“You’re here,” Harry says softly, and then the tears start to fall. Louis holds him for a minute, and then draws back and runs his thumbs along Harry’s cheeks, wiping the tears away.

“Took the first flight out this morning,” Louis says. “Let’s sit down, I don’t want you to stand for too long when you’re still sick.”

“I’m fine,” Harry starts to say, but Louis shushes him and leads him to the couch, pulling him down so that they’re stretched out and he’s enveloped in Louis’ arms. 

“How are you doing, baby?” He runs his fingers through Harry’s hair tenderly. The curls tumble down to graze Harry’s shoulders, and Harry isn’t sure who loves it more, him or Louis. He closes his eyes and considers it.

“Better, now. Much better.”

“Good.”

“I can’t believe you ditched your conference.”

“It’s fine. It was boring anyway. And I heard some insider info that our show didn’t even win, so it’s no big deal.”

“You came back for me,” Harry says with a grin, trailing his fingertips down Louis’ cheek.

“Alright, fine,” Louis says, his face bursting into a smile. “I came back for you.”

They spend the rest of the day cuddled up together, exactly like Harry was dreaming of the day before, talking when he wants to and silent when he doesn’t, and he wonders how in the world he got so lucky to be loved by Louis Tomlinson.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original post [here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/161608913091/so-kitchentour-just-read-my-college-au-we-are) | tumblr post for this verse [ here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/161626218551/two-hearts-in-one-home-outtakes-extra-scenes)


	6. Junior Fall: Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based on [this image](http://www.mtv.co.uk/sites/default/files/styles/image-w-1050-h-1050-scale/public/mtv_uk/galleries/large/2016/01/26/onedirection-history-1.jpg?itok=F9G1kVib)

The group Halloween costumes have become a thing, whether they meant it to or not. Freshman year it was Wizard of Oz, well-planned and on purpose, and last year they ended up all being ninjas because they were too lazy to find real costumes so they wore sweatpants. And then in early October when Louis asked if they wanted to be The Beach Boys for Halloween, everyone looked at each other and shrugged.

So that was that, and now they’re all getting dressed in Harry and Louis’ room because it’s the biggest one in their townhouse and houses all of Harry’s shirts. They’ve spent the past twenty minutes arguing over who’s going to wear which shirt.

“I’m wearing the flamingo one,” Harry announces. “You all gave me shit about these shirts for years, the least you can do is let me wear my favorite one.”

“I take back all those times I made fun of your dad shirts,” Zayn says to Harry, his tone teasing. “If I’d known we were going to get free Halloween costumes out of them, I never would have said anything.”

“Shut up,” Harry answers after a moment, too busy buttoning his shirt to think of a proper response.

“Your Hawaiian shirt collection is one of the best things about you, babe,” Louis says as he comes into the room, dressed in khaki shorts and a too-big shirt with mountains and palm trees. “Thank Christ it’s not as cold as the past two years, think we’d freeze our bollocks off in these shorts if it was snowing again.”

It takes a while to get the five of them dressed, but then Louis presents them all with a bright yellow lei and they’re out the door, off to a party next door at the girls’. It’s a tad unfortunate that they can’t get into a bar, because Harry’s the only one of them under twenty-one, but he’s too scared to risk getting in trouble for a fake ID. At least this way they can drunkenly stumble the thirty feet back to their own place.

“Boys!” Perrie coos when she opens the door to the five of them on her doorstep, a case of beer cradled in Louis’ elbow and a handle of vodka tucked under Niall’s arm. “Nice costumes, hope you’re ready for karaoke!”

“Oh, we’ve practiced,” Louis says as he sets down the alcohol on the table. “We’re gonna be the best Beach Boys cover band you’ve ever seen.”

A few drinks later they’re asked to prove it, standing on a table (likely to fall, definitely unsafe) to perform for the crowd below. And when Louis and Harry look at each other to sing ‘we could be married, and then we’d be happy’, Harry feels light and airy and thinks, _I’m going to marry the fuck out of this boy_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original post [here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/149512010996/wouldnt-it-be-nice)! | tumblr post for this verse [ here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/161626218551/two-hearts-in-one-home-outtakes-extra-scenes)


	7. Senior Winter: Airport Delays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally based on [this image](http://www1.pictures.zimbio.com/bg/Louis+Tomlinson+romantic+departure+9qN00HIABBml.jpg)

The woman at the airport desk sighs and clicks her long red fingernails against the desk. The sound is grating, just another thing to add to the growing list of awful things about this day. He bites down on his passport to stop himself from saying anything.

“As I’ve told you twice now, Mr. Tomlinson, we simply don’t have an available seat on a sooner flight back to Boston. The next two flights are fully booked.” There’s a long pause, and then she clicks her nails again, frowning at something on her computer screen. She looks up and meets his eyes, and there’s absolutely no warmth found within them. “However, I can offer you a complimentary place in our passengers’ lounge, if you’d like a place to rest and recharge. They have showers and other facilities there. I’m sure you’ll find it a very comfortable place to wait.”

Louis raises an eyebrow. Is she suggesting that he needs to take a shower? Because – rude. Though to be honest, he probably doesn’t smell that great. The last time he showered was yesterday morning, in a tiny hotel shower in Greece, his sister banging on the door for him to hurry up and get out. He’s not sure of the time, but it’s probably been at least 30 hours since then.

“I guess that’ll be fine,” Louis says with a roll of his eyes. He can’t help it; a three hour flight delay of his original flight from Athens to London meant that he missed his connecting flight to Boston, and now it turns out the next few flights are all booked. All he wants is to get back to school, back to his bed and his boyfriend. He’d like to sleep for a long, long time, preferably with Harry next to him.

“Excellent, Mr. Tomlinson.” She taps her nails again, clicking on her computer and pressing a boarding pass into his hand. He doesn’t think he’s mistaking the relief in her eyes, finally glad to be rid of him. “Thank you for flying British Airways.”

He mumbles his thank you and makes his way to the private lounge. The room is spacious, bright lights and spotless hardwood floors and dozens of individual armchairs throughout the room. It’s lovely, and he feels a bit bad for complaining so much about the flight. But then again, no. Because that’s how he got in here.

He makes his way to the bar and wastes no time ordering a complimentary beer. They tell him they’ll bring the beer and some snacks to his seat, so he curls up in an armchair near the fire and waits. There’s a father and his young daughter sitting a few feet away, the two of them sitting in one chair as he reads a book to her. She’s wearing what can only be described as a princess dress, flowy and pink and adorable. He’s a million years away from actually being a dad to someone, can’t imagine being responsible for another human life who needs him every single hour of the day. It doesn’t mean he hasn’t thought about it for the past ten years though, and even more in the year since he started dating Harry.

_“I always wanted to name a daughter Darcy,” Harry confessed one night when they were at the movies, the previews playing out on the screen._

_“Yeah?” Louis asked, palms suddenly feeling a bit sweaty against the box of popcorn. He wondered if everyone in the theater could hear the rapid thump of his heart, or if it was just him._

_“Yeah. I mean, if you like it, obviously.” Harry said in a low tone. “I dunno, we’ll see. Ooh, I want to see this movie, let’s go see it next time.” He smiled and reached into the popcorn bucket, casual as anything._

_“We’ll – yeah. We’ll see,” Louis stuttered, amazed at how easily Harry could mention the idea of them having kids together and then just move onto the next thing. Like it was an everyday occurrence, something they talked about every day, like it was understood that that’s what would happen._

_Maybe it would._

He tears his eyes away from the father and the daughter when the server comes by with his beer and a staggering number of snacks. “Compliments of British Airways,” he says cheerfully, dropping it to the table next to Louis’ chair.

Louis takes a sip of the beer, cool and refreshing as it slides down his throat, and takes out his phone. Harry’s probably still asleep, but he deserves to know that Louis won’t be home on time. Come to think of it, he’s probably awake and refreshing the airline tracker constantly. Louis told him not to bother going out in the January cold and taking the train to the airport, that he’d be happy to just meet him at home, but Harry is Harry, and Louis is certain that he’ll be waiting at the airport with a big sign.

He settles for a selfie of himself and the beer, captioning it “BA lounge is siiiick !”

Harry’s immediate response (definitely up refreshing the airport website, then) consists of telling Louis how cute he looks and then asking what he’s doing there. Louis settles for calling him.

“Lou, hi!” Harry says, his voice raspy from sleep and making Louis’ heart clench a little bit with how much he wants to be there right now. Soon, he reminds himself. Just one more flight and then you’ll be there.

“Hiii,” Louis says, dragging the word out. “How are you? I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m still in bed but I’m awake.”

“What time is it there?” Louis asks, rubbing his eyes tiredly. The thought of sleep weighs him down, like now that he’s thought about it, it’s all he wants.

“A little past eleven am,” Harry confesses. “I can’t wait to see you. Why are you in the BA lounge though?”

“Yeah, about that,” Louis says, sitting up straight. “I missed my first flight out of Greece so then I missed the next one, and I’m gonna be here for like, five more hours. I guess I made enough of a fuss that they let me in here for free.”

“Oh Lou,” Harry says, and he can hear the pout in his voice. “What about your family?”

“They were on a direct flight, Greece to Manchester, they made it no problem. I told you you should’ve come with us, at least then I wouldn’t be alone.”

“I know,” Harry says. “But like, family Christmas. I couldn’t miss it. Hey,” he continues, voice turning low and sultry. “Imagine all the things we could do in an airport lounge. I bet the beds are really comfy. And the rooms are probably like, soundproof, because fancy businessmen need their rest. You’d look so good laying there on those white sheets, looking up at me. Plus you’re so tan now, can’t wait to mark you up and show you how much I’ve missed you.”

Louis swallows hard, and as Harry keeps talking he looks around the room, feeling guilty for his thoughts when there’s a small child just in front of him. Innocent eyes, and all that. But come on, he hasn’t seen Harry since the week before Christmas and it’s mid-January now.

“Alright, enough,” Louis says, cutting Harry off in the middle of a graphic description of something he wants to do to him. “I get it. You miss me.”

“I do,” Harry says mournfully. “I miss you so much.”

“Yeah, well, soon,” Louis says, and he holds onto that like a mantra.

“Soon.”

Louis smiles, and they don’t say anything for a little bit but they just stay on the line, listening to each other breathing. Soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original post [here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/150086098361/delays)! | tumblr post for this verse [here](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/161626218551/two-hearts-in-one-home-outtakes-extra-scenes)


End file.
